


Recuperation and Determining Expectations

by onemechanicalalligator



Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [5]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: He’s been having small moments like this all day, each one ending with Troy comforting him, and it’s wonderful and perfect and it just doesn’t seem possible that it won’t become annoying at some point, that it won’t becometoo much, and he’d prefer to delay that as long as possible.Abed worries about the progress of his recovery, and Troy reassures him he's not going anywhere.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775179
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	Recuperation and Determining Expectations

It’s approaching dinner time. Troy and Abed are playing video games when Abed starts to get that feeling in his chest, the one that is kind of buzzy and heavy, and it’s not quite anxiety, but more like... _overwhelmed._ It seems like it comes out of nowhere, and his choice not to tell Troy doesn’t stem from the belief that Troy would have a problem or wouldn’t understand. It’s more that Abed is embarrassed. 

He’s been having small moments like this all day, each one ending with Troy comforting him, and it’s wonderful and perfect and it just doesn’t seem possible that it won’t become annoying at some point, that it won’t become _too much,_ and he’d prefer to delay that as long as possible.

These are thoughts he hasn’t had in awhile but suddenly they are growing and expanding and filling his head, drowning out any logic or reason.

So he tells Troy he’ll be right back and he slips into the Dreamatorium, hoping Troy is too focused on the game to notice and wonder what Abed is doing, and then he huddles up in the corner and presses his face into his knees and his hands over his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus only on the sound of his breath.

* * *

Troy has his eyes on the video game and assumes that Abed just went to the bathroom, but he gets nervous when Abed doesn’t come back. Five minutes become ten and he walks to the bathroom, which is empty. He starts to panic, but it’s a small apartment and he knows he didn’t hear the front door open. He follows his instinct and heads to the Dreamatorium.

Abed is folded up in the corner rocking back and forth. His hands are clasped around his knees and the nails from one hand are scratching the back of the other, and Troy can see from the doorway that his skin is bright red.

He rushes to Abed, and his first thought is to wrap his arms around him, but he stops himself just in time. He drops down and sits on the floor next to him. Abed doesn’t make any indication that he knows Troy is there, just keeps rocking. Troy can hear him taking slow, deep breaths, and that’s encouraging.

“Abed?” he says softly, and Abed doesn’t say anything but he does stop rocking.

Troy waits.

Abed is still scratching his hand, a steady rhythm that seems almost involuntary, which makes Troy wonder if he is even aware that he’s doing it. 

Eventually Abed lifts his head from his knees and blinks a few times, staring straight ahead. He has a faraway look in his eyes and his lip looks a little swollen, like maybe he’s been biting it. He doesn’t say anything.

“Abed?” Troy repeats.

He finally turns to look at Troy, only he’s not looking at Troy at all. It’s almost like he’s looking past him, or through him. Like Troy is a ghost, except that of the two of them, Abed is the one who looks like a ghost, who is maybe even acting a little like a ghost.

Troy waits.

* * *

Abed feels like he’s underwater. It’s not until Troy says his name that he even realizes he’s there, because his ears are full of white noise, a rushing sound that is maybe his blood or his heart, he doesn’t really know, but with his eyes closed it could be the ocean. He can almost feel the pressure of the water all around him, the salt prickling his skin, and he feels like he’s floating, and somewhere deep in his mind he remembers the heavy blanket from the hospital, wishes he had one right now.

Troy says his name again and he summons all of his energy to turn his head, and he’s not 100% sure Troy is really there, maybe it’s a manifestation of his guilt, because he feels pretty terrible about leaving Troy in the living room with no explanation. And then he starts to wonder how long he’s even been in here, and it’s a minute before he realizes Troy is speaking again.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and Abed thinks about it, and he’s not sure, but he guesses that will help him to know if Troy is real or not. So he nods.

He expects Troy to put his arms around him, the way he usually does, but instead he reaches for Abed’s hands, which are holding onto his knees, and he gently pulls them apart. He lets go and Abed looks at them, takes in the now familiar sight of blood under his fingernails and smeared on his hand, and he thinks, _you’ve ruined it, it’s over, because you convinced Troy you were better, only you’re not, you lied, you’ve let him down--_

“Abed,” Troy says. “Hey. Your eyes are jumping all over the place. Are you okay?”

Abed tries to find a way out of the whirlpool of shame he’s now caught in, tries to reach for a lifeline to drag him back to Troy, but he’s grasping and grasping and coming up with nothing.

“Abed,” Troy says again. “Can you hear me, buddy? It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I’m right here.”

Abed catches the _I’m right here,_ and that’s it, that’s the lifeline. He imagines it as a rope, tethers himself to it and pictures himself swimming to Troy. It’s a good thing he’s in the Dreamatorium. He doesn’t know if this would work anywhere else.

“Hi,” Abed says, because it’s the first thing he thinks of.

* * *

Troy lets out the breath he’s been holding. He slides closer to Abed, close enough that they’re touching, and finally puts his arms around him. He squeezes, and a moment later Abed’s head relaxes onto his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I love you. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” Abed replies, and his voice is jagged and crumbling, like cracked china.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Troy says. “I promise.”

“I didn’t tell you. I just left.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to leave, Abed. Anytime you need to.”

“I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell you…”

“Shh, Abed, Abed. Shh. It’s okay. I, um, think you might be spiralling a little bit.”

“Got out already,” Abed murmurs. “Right here.”

“We’re both right here. It’s all right. Everything is fine.”

“Sorry I’m not better,” Abed says, absently rubbing that same spot on his hand.

“You _are_ better,” Troy says. “You’re not _perfect._ And you’re not supposed to be.”

Abed is silent for awhile, and Troy lets him take his time, gather his words.

“But what if it’s always like this?” Abed whispers. "What if this is just my life now? What if I opened Pandora's box the first time I made myself bleed and I can't ever go back?" 

Abed is tracing his fingers over the scars that circle his right wrist, tapping them and rubbing them, squeezing his wrist tight and then letting go. When he starts to scratch them, Troy gently takes his hand and pulls it away, holding it tightly in his own. 

"You _can't_ go back," he says. "You can only go forward." 

Abed turns and looks at Troy. He still looks a little ghostlike, and his eyes are still darting around, and Troy doesn’t think Abed is even aware of it.

“You came to see me because I got better, but I didn’t get better. I don’t...I don’t want you to regret coming to see me,” Abed says, and closes his eyes, and Troy pulls Abed’s head to his chest and just holds it there, his other hand rubbing Abed’s back, and they stay like that for a long time.

“I would never regret coming to see you, Abed,” he says, just loudly enough that he’s sure Abed can hear him. “From the second I left, seeing you again was all I could think about. I love you. And I’m here with you now, and no matter what.”

Abed sniffles, but doesn’t say anything.

“Do you remember when I called you in the hospital?” Troy asks.

“Yes,” Abed says quietly.

“You weren’t feeling so well, then, were you?”

“No,” Abed admits.

“But I called you anyway, right?” Troy says, and plants a soft kiss on top of Abed’s head.

“Yes.”

“Because me loving you and wanting to talk to you don’t depend on you being okay,” Troy explains. “Me loving you and wanting to talk to you, that’s always. That’s forever. And it depends on _nothing._ Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Abed whispers.

“I was always going to come to you, whether it was now or later or once I’ve sailed around the damn globe. You couldn’t stop me if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to,” Abed assures him, and Troy can hear him smile, head still pressed to his heart.

“I love you whether you’re whole or broken or happy or sad or strong or weak or anything else. And you don’t have to apologize for how you are, or how you aren’t.”

“Okay,” Abed says, and his voice is starting to sound normal again.

“And if you need to escape to the Dreamatorium because you aren’t feeling great, and you want to be alone, that’s totally fine, too,” Troy adds. “Just let me know, and I won’t come looking for you.”

“Okay. But if I don’t let you know, please do come looking for me,” Abed says. “Sometimes I can’t tell you what I want or need. You might have to figure it out another way, or ask. I’ll do my best to leave breadcrumbs.”

“That’s not new, Abed,” Troy says. “You’ve kind of always been like that. I’m used to it.”

“Cool,” Abed says. “Cool cool cool.” He sits up, and Troy is relieved to see that the color has returned to his face and his eyes are back to normal.

“What would you like to do now?” Troy asks. 

“I want to research weighted blankets,” Abed says, “and order one. They’re kind of the best.”

“We can do that,” Troy replies.

“But first, we’re already in the Dreamatorium. We could do a quick simulation."

“Sure,” Troy says. “What did you have in mind?”

“Remember when you called me in the hospital and I asked you, if you could be anyone, dead or alive, and be doing anything in the world, who would you be and what would you be doing?”

“I remember,” Troy says, a grin spreading across his face.

“Do you remember what you said?”

“That I’d be myself. Kissing you.”

“Yes. So, how about we simula--”

The rest of the sentence is cut off by Troy’s kiss, but Abed doesn’t mind.


End file.
